full warnings:
 A mentally deranged Arthur, some cursing, psychological trauma, possible upcoming scenes of torture.

This is not a happy fic. o.o

Songbird
I. Mockingbird

"Are you l-lonely?"

The quiet, sandy-haired boy glanced up from his fixed gaze on the ground. The swing moved slowly back and forth, the rusty chains creaking in his ears, as he sat in front of the other boy that had approached him.

He didn't answer and looked away again, wishing to be left alone.

"You s-sit in m-my gr-group for c-cl-class, remember?"

He looked up again to study the stranger. He had wavy, slightly overgrown tresses that reminded him of the color of wheat. The boy's eyes were a shade of light indigo, peeking curiously at him.

"I'm M-Matthew," the small blond introduced, managing a smile through his heavy stutter. "C-Can I-I sit here wi-with you?"

"I don't know," the other eight-year-old snapped. "Can you?"

His tone was sharp. He shot the other the meanest gaze he could muster, which only resulted in making those indigo eyes wet with tears. "I-I'm sorry," the boy sniffled, wiping the tears away with his sleeve before they could trickle down. "I'll j-just leave th-then."

He had taken two steps away when he heard the other: "I didn't say you couldn't sit."

The wavy-haired blond turned, cocking his head curiously. "D-Does th-that mean I can...?"

"I thought I just said you could," the other boy said, and before he knew it, he was chuckling.

Matthew smiled happily at the sound and took a seat on the empty swing next to him. "So wh-what's y-y-your name?" he chirped brightly.

"I'm Arthur."

. . .

Matthew woke with a start, eyes snapping open and subsequently getting blinded by the harsh sunlight. He raised a hand to cover his eyes while fumbling for the curtains. Once he grabbed hold of them, he yanked them shut. Vaguely, he registered his alarm clock going off as his mind tried to clear itself.

"Shut that thing off!" came a shout from somewhere outside his room.

If he wasn't awake before, he was fully awake now. He jolted up to a sitting position and slammed a fist down on the snooze button so as to not further antagonize his father. He didn't need a bruise to show off at school.

The beeping was abruptly cut off. Matthew collapsed limply back down onto the pool of sheets with a sigh. He wanted nothing more than to crawl back under the comforter and go back to sleep.

At least it was Friday.

Blindly, he reached for the cell phone on his bedside table to check the screen. He had three unopened text messages and two missed calls. A faint smile crossed his face when he saw that they were all from Alfred.

Alfred.

Matthew always needed to think of something early in the morning to motivate himself to get up for the rest of the day; thinking about Alfred always seemed to do the trick. Just his name alone could send Matthew's heart fluttering - which didn't make him feel so manly, but he digressed. The feeling was, admittedly, nice.

He set the phone back down before slipping out of bed. His maroon pajama pants riding low on his hips, hand running through his wavy blond hair, he padded to the bathroom.

When he came back to his room a few minutes later, dripping wet and trying to towel his hair dry, he heard his phone ringing.

He knew it was Alfred - and it wasn't just because he had his own ringtone. He answered the call halfway through the second ring with a bright, "Al?"

"Morning!" his boyfriend chirped, sounding more enthusiastic than usual. "Hey, you almost ready? I'm outside."

"What?" Matthew leaned over to look out the window. True to Alfred's word, the familiar sleek black car was waiting outside. "You don't have to pick me up," he protested half-heartedly into the receiver. "I could take the bus any time."

Alfred scoffed. "And risk losing you to possible rapists?" he said. "Not on my watch, Mattie."

"There aren't any rapists around here." Matthew held the phone meticulously in place with his shoulder. It was true - their town was relatively small, everyone basically knew everyone, and hardly any drama ever happened.

"That's what they all say. Then it happens," Alfred persisted, sounding semi-serious. A few seconds later, his tone switched to playful. "Hey Matt, guess what?"

"What?" Matthew asked, setting the phone on speakerphone as he pulled his shirt on.

"I can see you through your window."

"The curtains are closed."

Alfred cursed. "Well, it was worth a shot."

"I'll be down in a second," Matthew said, chuckling to himself. He ended the call and slipped the phone in his pocket, slung his backpack over his shoulder, and then exited his house with the least amount of noise as possible.

"Jeez, Matt, I thought you were supposed to feel more open with your family," he said in a chastising tone, clearly disapproving, "not like you have to sneak around like some sort of ninja."

"I'm used to it," Matthew replied shortly, shrugging, as if it wasn't a big deal.

Alfred dropped the subject, thankfully, and made a big show about opening the passenger side door for him. Matthew, embarrassed but smiling, acquiesced and got in.

Within a few minutes, they had pulled away from the curb and were heading to the high school.

. . .

The hallways were always busy, especially the lockers. Students were always waiting for each other, which just added to the over-crowdedness of it all. Arthur hated it(the fact that his locker was on bottom didn't help), but today day, things seemed less chaotic. There were less people milling about. Arthur could actually straighten out his elbow without hitting anyone.

He was probably just early though, and that crowd was bound to arrive sooner or later. So he made sure to unpack and gather his books for his morning classes as quickly as possible. The emerald-eyed student had just shut his locker and was moving to stand when he felt someone trip on his leg.

"S-Sorry!"

Arthur turned to glare at whoever it was, but his expression softened considerably when he saw that it was only Matthew, eyes wide, cheeks flushed slightly. "Just watch your step next time," he said, shooting a half-smile at the other. The smile diminished when he saw the one and only Alfred Jones catch up with Matthew.

"You okay, Matt?" the golden-haired teen asked, clearly concerned.

"I'm fine, you shouldn't worry so much."

"I just don't want you getting hurt."

A smile. A hand on his cheek. A quick, fleeting kiss to his lips.

Arthur hid a scowl by turning to pick up his books. Then he stood, catching sight of the couple's backs as they proceeded down the hallway together. Matthew was laughing at something that Alfred said - a laugh that Arthur could identify anywhere - and in return, the taller boy's arm was slung across his waist, pressing Matthew into his side. Almost...possessively. Mockingly.

He didn't know how long he stood there for, ignoring the students pushing past him, watching as Matthew reached his homeroom. The young Canadian turned to kiss Alfred on the cheek, but Alfred moved so that their lips touched instead.

Arthur's fingers tightened on his books as anger flared within him. He gritted his teeth harshly, willing himself to calm down, trying to convince himself that it was natural. They were a couple. Couples were supposed to do things like that. Plus, it wasn't like they were doing it to rub it in his face. He had never told anyone his secret. It was okay.

Yet, it was not; Arthur was in love with Matthew. And seeing that brainless idiot have his hands all over him, acting as if he owned him, was not okay. Not to Arthur.

He had nearly convinced himself and was taking a step to turn away when Alfred suddenly turned as well, catching his eye.

At first, the other boy looked surprised, as if he wasn't expecting to see Arthur. But then something clicked in his mind, and a smirk curved his lips.

Arthur met his gaze levelly.

Eventually, the rest of Alfred's friends caught up with him, and the American was carried away by the flow of the crowd. Arthur was still standing there by the time the bell rung, face blank, knuckles white from clutching at his binder too hard.

Matthew would be his soon.

a/n: I really do want to finish this story, and I actually have a few thousand words of it done already. So we know that this will live to at least a third chapter, yay! :D /shot

And yeah. Arthur's not exactly...
...mentally healthy.